


don't wanna spend my whole life dreaming

by painted_pictures



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Crushes, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, jack and davey: so i think i might—, logan can't end fics properly!, race: just kISS alrEADY, say it with me kids, writing the dialogue was PAINFUL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21773605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_pictures/pseuds/painted_pictures
Summary: Jack Kelly isn’t stupid, exactly. He doesn’t have as much knowledge as others, sure, but he knows enough. Even so, Race can’t recall a time when he hasn’t been a total dumbass.(or, jack and davey are obviously in love and race is sick of their pining: the fic)
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Racetrack Higgins & David Jacobs, Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly, background spot/race
Comments: 2
Kudos: 113





	don't wanna spend my whole life dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> i refuse to write another newsies fic simply because the grammar in the dialogue killed me

Jack Kelly isn’t stupid, exactly. He doesn’t have as much knowledge as others, sure, but he knows enough. Even so, Race can’t recall a time when he hasn’t been a total dumbass.

“He’s  _ so _ fuckin’ pretty, Racer. And he’s real damn nice and he’s a smartass, yeah, but. Think I might be in love,” Jack rambles. This is the first time Race has been up to his penthouse. A cool wind ruffles their hair and sends chills through their body. Crutchie isn’t up here with them, which is a bit unexpected. Race isn’t sure if Jack has told anyone else about his feelings for a certain news boy.

“Can’t really see where you’s comin’ from with that ‘pretty’ thing, but sure.” Race takes a puff from his cigar.

Jack glares at him, and Race chooses to ignore it. “You says that about anyone that isn’t Spot Conlon.”

The heat that finds the blond’s face contrasts with the cold air still blowing on him. “This ain’t about me, ‘kay, it’s about you and ya boyfriend.” He puts the cigar back in his mouth and hopes Jack doesn’t notice the pink tint in the dark.

“He ain’t my boyfriend!” Jack exclaims, louder than expected. His voice carries through the sleepless city, and the two of them go silent.

“He ain’t my boyfriend,” Jack repeats, quieter this time. “He’s just a real good friend I might be attracted to, is all.”

“‘ _ Might be, _ ’” Race mocks. “Sounds definite to me, Kelly. From what I hear, you’s hopeless.”

Jack chuckles softly. “You’re the worst, Higgins.”

“Ya love me.”

“Guess I do.”

Davey Jacobs is smart. He has brains, he can read and write. Hell, he’s the reason the Newsboys’ strike succeeded. It’s just  _ common sense _ that he lacks.

He invites Race to sell with him for the day, and they both can see Jack trying not to look jealous.

Race agrees to come with him, curious. The spot picked out is outside a bank, but because of the early morning, no one is around.

Davey falls to the ground, burying his face in his hands and groaning.

“What's-a-matter? Ya sick or something?” Race’s tone is light, but now he’s a little concerned.

Davey sighs and moves his hands to instead run through his hair. “I hate being in love.”

“Oh.” Race sits down beside him. “Care to share?”

“Jack.”

Race has to hide his smirk, thinking about the conversation with the boy in question a few nights ago.

Davey continues. “It’s dumb, and I shouldn’t have  _ feelings _ for him, but ever since I met him I couldn’t stop thinking about him and then we became friends so quickly and we’ve known each other for a while now and I’ve come to realise that I’m hopeless, Race, fucking hopeless!”

Race doesn’t know what to say. He opts to simply listen while Davey talks his ear off until someone shows up and they remember they have a job.

For a while, Race decides not to tell either of his friends that their love is requited. He figures that they’ll figure it out themselves.

Turns out, he’s the dumb one in that situation.

He’s tired of Jack and Davey talking about each other. Well, not the talking exactly; it’s rather cute. But it’s getting painful to watch them act as if they aren’t (very obviously, thanks) pining after one another.

So the next time Davey talks to him, Race can’t stop himself from saying it.

“I didn’t even have a favourite colour before him! And it’s not even that nice of a colour on it’s own! But it’s his  _ eyes _ and I can’t stand when he looks at me like that!”

“Like what?” Race asks, stubbing out his cigar on the wall he’s leaning against.

Davey waves his hands around in wild gestures. “Every way he looks at me!” He leans his head back to look at Race, who’s standing over him. “I’m never going to get out of this am I?”

Race shrugs.

“Fuck! And he doesn’t even like me back, I’m screwed—”

He’s interrupted by Race bursting into loud laughter. His head is thrown back as curls bounce on his head. He tries to speak a few times, but only gets sent back into his fit of mirth.

“What do you mean— _ he don’t like ya back? _ He’s head over heels for ya!” Race manages, still giggling. “I thought you’s was smart! He’s been talkin’ about ya for weeks now. It’s just  _ Davey this _ ‘n  _ Davey that _ non-stop. I nearly went insane.” He keeps the grin on his face as he slides down the wall to join Davey on the ground.

He receives a blank stare. “Why- what- why didn’t you tell me?”

“We already said I thought you was smart. Clearly you ain’t.” Race tilts his head back until it hits the building they’re against. “Why don’t ya just tell ‘im?”

“B- I- because, uh,” Davey tries to stutter out a reply. “I don’t- because- I can’t!”

Race rolls his eyes. “Guess you’ll be stuck pinin’ after him forever.”

Davey huffs. “You give the worst advice.”

“My advice is good, whatcha on about?”

Davey finally confesses around a week later. He pulls Jack from the line for papers, dragging him away from the others and speaking in a hushed voice to not be heard by anyone else. Race winks at them, earning a glare without menace.

Just a couple minutes pass before the boys return, faces flushed and huge smiles on their faces.

“So! How’d it go?” Race asks that evening, holding himself up with the pole on one of the beds. Davey’s eyes light up and he starts going on again.

“I told him that I really like him and he didn’t believe me at first but then he told me it was because he feels the same and he thought I was messing with him to taunt him, which I’d never do, by the way! But he said that and I asked if I could kiss him—”

“Spare me the details, kid,” Race says, covering his ears.

“Firstly, I’m older than you! And you asked!”

Race waves his hand in Davey’s direction. “Yeah, sure. I’m messin’ with ya, kid.”

Davey crosses his arms. “I  _ know _ that,” He mumbles.

When he asks Jack, Race actually allows the story to finish.

“He kissed me and I almost fuckin’  _ cried, _ man, I love him! He fuckin’, he called me  _ Jackie, _ I just ‘bout melted right there. He had this stupid little smile after and holy shit, holy  _ shit! _ ” Jack says in a rush.

Race snorts at his friend’s ecstasy. “Where's my thanks?”

A confused look falls onto Jack’s face. “For what?”

“Ya ain't the only one who's been talkin’ to me. I told Davey to tell you. So, you're welcome.”

Jack can only stare.

**Author's Note:**

> the very canon ending: race wont stop talking about spot in the hopes that they’ll go the same way (they don’t, but end up together anyway)


End file.
